Many might wonder, even accuse themselves, how can I, a rabbi, once Orthodox, serving in an Orthodox congregation and heading Orthodox educational institutions, be willing, even eager, to help interfaith couples and (co ) officiate at their weddings?
Let me start with a family history. I remember an argument my grandmother had with my great-uncle in front of me. They had both moved from the East Coast to Portland, Oregon, to be with their children and grandchildren. Neither was observing in the orthodox sense of the word, but both had bought kosher meat in the east. While my grandmother continued to buy kosher meat in Portland despite the higher price, my great-uncle started buying non-kosher meat once he moved there. He explained that kosher meat was too expensive. My grandmother sternly replied that she continued to buy kosher meat, because “that’s how our parents raised us!”
That logic never made sense to me. I bought kosher food, lived in Eruv, sent my children to an expensive day school, and complied with all the other expensive and exacting demands of halacha, because I firmly believed that God had commanded me to. Even where tradition came into play, such as the Rama’s standard derech hapsak (mode of halakhic decision), the concepts of minhag yisrael din hu (Israel’s custom has the force of law), and the like, the implicit, if not explicit reasoning it was that God wants you to do it this way, not that the tradition itself has any independent value apart from God’s will. My opposition at that time to intermarriage, like any transgression of Jewish Law, had nothing to do with tradition. As an orthodox rabbi, I did not, nor would I have dreamed of performing intermarriage, as it is against halacha. Period. What mattered to me was the wish of the deity, not a tradition, per se.
Somewhere in the middle of 2006, all this changed. I had a kind of epiphany and it became clear to me that I could not remain Orthodox. I began a year and a half long journey of study and exploration, at the end of which I left the Orthodox world behind, and now live my life as a Jewish secular humanist. I no longer buy kosher food, live in the Eruv, send my children to expensive day school, or comply with all the other expensive and exacting demands of halacha, because I firmly believe that no God has commanded me to do so. Since my objection to officiating intermarriage was an integral part of my halakhic life, I see no reason not to do so now. Period. Now what guides my life are the ideals of humanism. What matters is how I can help my neighbor and how I can make the world a better place for humanity in general. That is of paramount importance, not the imagined desire of a deity.
I remember meeting Rabbi Jacques Cukierkorn for the first time over kosher ribs at Irv’s Market in Kansas City. He explained his philosophy of what he would and would not do through a story he was humorously intended to make even the most liberal orthodox rabbi (me) raise an eyebrow. Once he got the effect he wanted, he earnestly explained that he has criteria when he judges a potential act: will it further the cause of Judaism? I also have a criterion: will what I do help my peers and promote the cause of humanist ideals? Treating a couple with kindness and compassion, as human beings, as individuals, which is how they treated each other when they fell in love, is the best way to accomplish this. In fact, I can think of few better things than helping a couple make the most important day of their lives even more wonderful, especially when so many rabbis won’t do it without attaching numerous conditions.
Rabbi Adam Shalom talks about the fact that all marriages are mixed marriages. People marry multifaceted individuals; each of us has many defining characteristics, our religion being just one of them. In that sense, even a marriage between two ultra-Orthodox Jews is a mixed marriage, and a marriage between a Jew and a non-Jew, who are on the same “wavelength” on many things, might be less of a stretch, depending on the other things. characteristics of each individual. Amy Elkes writes: “My boyfriend and I share many of the same beliefs and values. We both believe in acting with honesty and integrity. We both honor our families and believe that children are a couple’s greatest commitment. We love to learn, travel and explore new places.When we are faced with problems, no matter what kind, we look to each other for comfort and support.In short, we are not defined solely by our religions, and as a result, we have a great deal of common ground to lean on. We.” Each couple must be sure that their “package” will work. After all, a perfectly halakhic marriage between a humanist Jew and an ultra-Orthodox Jew would probably have a lesser chance of remaining intact than one between a humanist Jew and a humanist Buddhist.
The interesting thing is that, after all, if we are going to invoke tradition, those of us who see nothing wrong with interfaith marriage have a good base to stand on, and in a sense, a better one than those who invoke tradition against it. . After all, from the period when our ancestors, the Canaanites of the Central Highlands, began to define themselves as Israelites and Judahites until at least 450 B.C. C., beyond the standard xenophobia, so common in those times, not many thought that there really was so much wrong. with mixed marriage. This was partly because everyone worshiped many of the same gods, with a small group of priests in the 7th century BC. promoting monolatry of one of those gods in particular, Yahweh, and trying to encourage a bit more than standard xenophobia with its intermarriage bans. The latter openly regret that at that time they did not make much of a “splash” among the general population. This is why we see intermarriage exemplified by the legendary figures of Ruth, Ma’acha, Na’ama, Jezebel, Yeter, Uriah, and many more. Professor. Baruch Halpern talks about the fact that overall this Yahweh Solo party rewrote history with the traditional Israelite practice condemned as alien and contrary to tradition, and the new practice of this new party elevated as the true Israelite tradition. This is just one more example, where that is so true. Being open to interfaith marriage, we invoke the ancient and true traditions of our Canaanite/Israelite ancestors. By leaving behind their xenophobia, we enhance these traditions.
I feel a personal connection to such a way of thinking about myself as someone who will (co)officiate at interfaith marriages. The following is my personal guess, and I may be slightly off, but certainly no more so than the traditional Judaism version. There have been a number of fascinating studies on the evidence mitochondrial and Y chromosome DNA markers give us about the development of the human race. One of the most fascinating of these studies is the study which implies that 70-80% of today’s male Cohanim (Aaronid or Zadokite priests) are descended from a single common male ancestor who lived 2100-3500 years ago. Now, the consensus among archaeologists is pretty clear that the Israelites and Judahites arose from the Canaanites of the Central Highlands. That means that that ancestor most likely came from that milieu. If you read between the lines in the Bible, you can see that there is some probability that the story of the Aaronid priesthood actually begins with the selection of two rival lines of the Cannanite priesthood by the rustic Judahite chieftain we know as David (whom we now have evidence did in fact exist) with the Zadokite line winning. When I, a Kohen, stand before a couple and consecrate them in marriage, I see myself not only as an heir to the storied traditions of Judaism and the original Cannanites/Israelites, but also, by virtue of my DNA, as an heir to that ancient Cannanite priesthood, who may have officiated many marriages of all kinds, without anyone thinking anything of it.
Some may say that officiating interfaith marriages will decimate the Jewish people. Some, and I find my former self guilty in this regard, even use abhorrent references to a “voluntary holocaust,” as if the people who wish to marry the ones they love are analogous to those who murdered a third of our people. Again Chalom is moving in his thinking on this matter. Why not see this as an enlargement of the Jewish people? For theistic Jews of all stripes, there is a need to legally define who is Jewish and who is not, as they view Jews through religious eyes. Who is Jewish is as much an issue for the most liberal Reform rabbi as it is for his Neturai Karta counterpart. For them, under some version of Halacha, the children of the interfaith couple will either be Jewish or non-Jewish, and this is a major concern. For me, Judaism is primarily a matter of culture, history, and intellectual tradition, the positive and relevant aspects of which I embrace along with the traditions of the Enlightenment. One can be part of many different cultures. My children are three quarters Ashkenazi and one quarter Sephardim. Did I hurt Ashkenazi culture by not marrying a fully Ashkenazi woman? My cousin married a man from China. Did she hurt her children by not marrying a man born in the United States? Did she hurt her children by not marrying a Chinese woman? Certainly, to her shame, many people a generation or two ago would have answered in the affirmative. To the shame of ultra-Orthodox Judaism in Israel, they still answer my first question in the affirmative today. Do we need to be so narrow-minded? Can we not understand that there is something enriching, positive and wonderful in more people being heirs to a Jewish cultural, historical and intellectual tradition, combined with the additional identities they have? This should be seen as a blessing, not a problem.
Our rabbis ask what God is doing since he finished the drudgery of creation. They tell us that he does one thing: matchmaking. The idea of marriage, two separate people coming together to form a united entity, when you think about it, is really fantastic. In our modern culture with the high divorce rate, we see how incredibly difficult it can be to keep that package intact. Those of us who are married know that we have to keep working day by day. If we are approached by a couple who love each other deeply, who have pondered the issues of their compatibility and have decided that they would like nothing more than to spend their lives together, merging their lives and their flesh into one, and ask us to help them make this dream come true, dare we say no? I know I can’t, and I won’t. I won’t put any conditions on my willingness to (co)officiate, and I’ll just ask one question, the question Chalom says he asks couples when they approach him: “Do you love each other?” If the answer is yes, I will only have one answer, “Mazel Tov, now let’s look at some dates…”
Copyright 2007 – Rabbi David S. Gruber – All Rights Reserved